The Ship That Sailed One day a ship sails towards familiar seas, away, back home. And if you squint through the fogged up porthole there is a view of an island in its wake, the ocean eroding its shores. On the floor of the cabin are strewn torn pictures and tear- soaked memories. They had not hit the island and been stranded, they had inhabited it by choice. They had found comfort on that island and had wished to remain there, and the island had revelled in supplying their needs, felt a warmth grow inside, for it had a use it had not yet experienced and it loved them in return, offering them its sweetest fruits and strongest branches. But they had come to find that they could not feed on its fruits nor fuel their fires with its trees for a lifetime. It could not sustain them that long, for its resources were running too low too quickly - its forests were too young and thin, and the seeds of its fruit were not dispersed wide enough by the birds and insects that it could currently sustain. And although through the sweetness of its fruit the island always beckoned them, and the island was usually warm, one day a cold wind came from the south. It amplified the waves and flooded the shores, washing away some of their human constructs. It knocked the fruit off the trees, cut the flights of birds and shred their wings so that feathers scattered around the beaches and the tops of the coconut palms. The humans believed the wind was as temporary thing, and would pass soon, it being winter. And though the gales were so demanding of the island's strength (the island had to hold on for dear life to its trees and plants lest they be swept away into the ocean) there was a power and beauty, a musicality to the tone of the wind that was not lost on them. It was a part of the island's life itself. The island managed the onslaught, the strongest it had yet experienced. It held on to the trees and plants. Meanwhile the humans were left to fend for themselves amidst the torrential rain and buffeting wind that soaked and ripped apart their creations and dreams. But the wind did an important thing. It spread the seeds of many more plants than bird or insect could manage. The mighty wind continued for days un-stopped and the humans soon saw it would not let up - they saw the truth of the islands habitability, the limitations of their new paradise. The island was fighting for its own survival against the elements, its desire to live in harmony with the wind. For once its trees had weathered enough seasons they would become strong. The island would be able to sustain more life, and more trees would grow as sons and daughters of the elder trees, and the island would live in balanced harmony with the wind, to become, one day, an island that could truly support human life. So the humans took their ship, and they left. Eventually they found their home shores, and warm smiles welcoming them back, but in their hearts was a great sadness for the island that had chosen survival over the comfort and pleasure of their presence. They had lost their dreams to the wind. They took small trips out the waters surrounding their home. And sure enough, as islands have a habit of knowing the workings of humans, soon another island, one much nearer their home shores, was inviting them to live. It had none of the cold sonorous gale winds and it was full of forests thick and fruit plentiful and sweet. Its shores were lapped by a warm ocean and gentle currents, and they had indeed found a paradise on earth. Now long left behind, the old island was proud, but lonely in its pride, and many of its fundamental weaknesses became all too apparent to itself in times long after it lost the warmth of companion-ship. Still it battled on and on seemingly against itself and the mounting dark skies it faced, knowing deep despair and regret, and visited especially in those times by visions of its past, but realising the truth of the facts and instincts that lead to the decisions it made. The future looked bleak but the foundations were slowly building and the future can only hold so much bleakness.